From an early episode of Law & Order: Special Victims Unit. A very special victim has been discovered by his wife and daughter, tied to the bedpost in a leather hood and harness. Thankfully, the SVU crew are soon on the scene. And Detective Benson has a probing question.
BENSON: Do you think there's a reason the killer sodomized your husband with a banana?
WIFE: He was allergic to bananas.
Today was one of those wet, gray London days.
It wasn't as cold as it's been recently. But now that the clocks have changed, what light there is goes early.
The rain wasn't too bad, until I got close to home. My train line was down, so I had to take a bus from the tube, then walk the rest of the way. The walk's not far, only about 10 minutes, and only that as it's uphill all the way.
I stepped off the bus into a downpour. It's never rained that hard my whole time in London. And I'd loaded up on groceries in town, as the grocery stores were only open for a few hours, while I was at work. My jeans are still drying out.
So we're heading straight on into winter . . .
Anything that would be flavored grape at home is flavored blackcurrant here.
As in: candy (chewy soft candy and hard candy alike); soft drinks and sports drinks (including something called "squash"); medicine.
What can you get here with a grape flavor? Wine.
It doesn't really bother you at first. But, after a while, you're eating some candy, and there's strawberry, and orange, and lemon, and lime, and then the purple one should be grape -- but it's a horrible bitter taste. Like those berries in the forest you're not supposed to eat.
That's blackcurrant.
Now what I really crave is some grape Jell-O squares -- but that's a topic for another post.
New feature for the blog: it's called Yankee Doodle.
Fun way for me to share some of my little observations about living over here. Beyond the fact that they call potato chips "crisps" because "chips" are French fries (but only ever the thick-cut type of French fries . . .).
Yankee Doodles will appear randomly and in numbered sequence. Like all things, they are entirely subject to my whim. Enjoy!
So I have one of those horribly English colds. I have been coughing for a couple weeks now. It would have cleared itself up sooner, only I have an earwax build-up problem in my right ear, so my eustachian tube cannot clear itself properly.
Or at least it couldn't, until the last day or so, as now I am hacking up loads of gross stuff. But I am getting better. So that's good.
Thus I've decided to try and stay in as much as possible this weekend. Need to get a few more provisions. Time for another cup of tea.
And tonight, I'm looking forward to watching The X-Factor which is followed on ITV1 by Vernon Kaye's All-Star Family Fortunes, which is basically Celebrity Family Feud, only with British celebrities (i.e. people you've never seen or heard of) and questions like "Name a food that often comes with chips."
And there may be yet another game of Scrabulous on Facebook -- Nick, are you out there?
I have been writing poems and short stories, too. And still working on plays. But nice to have some variety.
I will throw things up here from time to time. Mainly poems (as below). Hopefully nothing too precious.
The postman’s already come round,
the neighbors have gone to the shops, and yet
you haven’t thought to put
the kettle on. Children are shrieking
in the park glimpsed through the window,
the bright grass, the glare. Draw
the curtains, draw a bath, untangle
yesterday’s clothes. We barely slept,
only trying at last, clasped one
against the other, your body
sweating into mine. Already you’re
planning errands, a proper nap. I decline
the cup of tea. What’s there to say
once it’s done? Before, coming in
from the streetlights, I was so clever.
I could say nothing about anything
and make you laugh when our pants
came off, when getting inside
was everything. Holding our breath
like those deep-sea divers who go all the way
down without tanks or gear, we plunged
through the depths till we couldn’t bear
the pressure, our lungs pulling us back
to the surface. Now the sun’s so high, so
hot. Now my throat catches, dry. Now you’re
hiding, turned away, unfolding yourself
into a shirt. Now the mail is on the floor.
So I think it's time to start blogging again.
I had set this blog up a few months after I moved to London, but then I was living well out in Zone 3. In Walthamstow, a place where -- if people have heard of it -- they've never been. I shared a decent-sized house with a nice couple, but it was a good 12 minute walk to the Tube station (Blackhorse Road, Victoria line), and then a solid 30 minutes into town (changing at Finsbury Park).
I work in the West End, which is usually where I go to play (well, there or Vauxhall), so that was a lot of time spent commuting.
A couple weeks back, I moved into a new flat. It's a maisonette which means it is a flat split over multiple levels, but it's not its own house -- in our case, there's a separate flat on the first floor, and a very hip modern furniture store on the ground level. My gigantic room is on the 2nd floor, along with the kitchen and bathroom. The couple I live with now have their bedroom and lounge on the 3rd floor.
How nice is it here? Well, in no particular order:
1) There is not only a washing machine, but also a tumble dryer.
2) There's a dishwasher (not me, but an actual machine!)
3) Everything is well kitted out, and lots of it is from Ikea. As in, the nice stuff from Ikea. (The phrase "Ikea heaven" has been used.)
4) You can see the London Eye from the kitchen window.
5) You can see the edge of London, to the north, from my bedroom window.
6) We are on Crouch Hill, which is why you can see everything in every direction (and thus vertically justifying the term "heaven").
7) There is enough storage space so I don't have to have any suitcases in my room.
8) I have my own TV and landline phone.
9) We are one minute's walk to the platform at the train station, which is a one-minute ride to Finsbury Park, from which it takes about 12 minutes to get to the West End, about 15 minutes to Vauxhall. So most days, I get to work in under 20 minutes.
10) And did I mention the cleaner comes every Monday?
Such a sweet set-up now -- I have loads of extra time, it's a much nicer area and then there are all the amazing vistas. No wonder my flatmate decided to call our wireless network "Room with a View."
So I'll have a lot more time to write now. And, I figure, at least a bit for blogging.
